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The Hoofprints of Paradise

It was after sundown. Darkness falls quickly on the Hawaiian Islands after sundown. I was walking down a beachfront road in Kailua-Kona, on the western shore of Hawai‘i Island, when out of the darkness a drunk called out.

“Do you know God?”

“Do you know Jesus?”

“Or”, as I kept on walking, “are you just vindictive?

I walked on, reflecting on the true tales of living on the Hawaiian Islands for which “vindictive” is one of the milder words, tales which I myself had lived, and I heard him laugh. A crazy laugh, high-pitched, hysterical.

And I thought that I had never heard a more apt description of life in the 50th state.

This is Hawai‘i. Of course it’s hot here. Welcome to Hell.


  1. .
    Good thoughts, Amoeba! 🙂 I do think, though, that Hell is several degrees hotter still. Several things I remember about Hawaii besides how lovely it can be, one is hot and church (speaking of Hell!).

    The church we attended (Baptist on Maui) even the preacher wore shorts because it gets soooooo hot. Funny think is that Texas is hotter still in the summers, but we have airconditioning that runs even in the winter.

    The other weather item I remember is how nice and cool every morning was. Perfect for my daily run (back then, until age 68, I ran most every day) in the cool. Mostly I would finish it before 10 or 11. Except on Mauna Kea, on the Big Island, where I could run along the base road any time of the day. That was such a pretty run.

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